I was recently exploring the many delightful Christmas Markets here in Berlin, and as I strolled down the artisan pavilion, browsing hundreds of remarkable handmade objects, a thought struck me.
Here was a painter, a sculptor, a potter with their market stall, their art neatly laid out in front of you. Each piece they made they hoped to sell, each picture, figurine, and cup would leave them, never to return.
How would it change your writing if you had a stall like that? If you could only sell a story to one person because there were no copies.
You are used to art that can be stored, duplicated, and altered if need be. But many other artists cannot. Stage performers cannot go back and play a tune they got wrong. It needs to come out perfectly the first time. Their art is immediate and final.
How would it change you and the way you write if you had to do it in front of a 30,000-strong crowd in Royal Albert Hall? Would you practice a story beforehand?
(I don’t have the answers. I’m sharing this because these are thoughts worth having.)